Backup Boy
by xImperfectPerfectionistx
Summary: A and B from the beginning to the end. Every second of bloody, jam filled twisted romance. Every. Single. Second of it. Final chapter posted,C&C R&R lalala.
1. Chapter 1

**I shouldn't be starting this, Gashh.**

His parents were murdered. Killed, right in front of his eyes when he was too young to understand why Mommy was screaming and Daddy was covered in sticky red stuff. He was too young to realize that they weren't sleeping. He was too young to understand that finger painting with their blood was weird and quite frankly disturbing. He was too young to know the bad men with no faces were slaughtering them. He was too scared to leave his hiding place.

He was a twisted child, the kind that ripped the wings off butterflies and smiled softly and innocently as he did it, finding the way their wings tore beautiful. His child like universe full of pain and torture.

He was quickly shoved into a fosters home, and a nice lady found him. The way he hid behind the head carer and giggled at her wincing when he dug his sharp nails into her was cute to this lady, or something. She transported him to a spotless home with white furniture and white everything, the only colour was her beautiful bright red hair, dyed. She fed him Jam as a treat, I guess you could say that was the start of his fetish for the stuff, but, anyway. One day, the pretty woman, name not disclosed, brought her boyfriend home. The boy would sit in his biased blue room listening to them for a year go from sex to screaming to angry make up sex. He would sit, staring up at the wall as she begged him not to hurt her anymore, then screamed for him to screw her harder. He would sit, his little brain becoming slowly more and more confused as to what a real, healthy relationship was.

Eventually, it was just arguing. Painful arguing. Everywhere. In front of the boy also. He could remember sitting at the white, plastic, kitchen table one day, sipping orange juice when Boyfriend stalked into the living room, Woman scurrying after. The kitchen and living room had no dividers, and the front door was to the right, so the little, eleven year old boy saw everything. She got too close and grabbed Boyfriend's arm. Boyfriend immediately pulled back and struck her hard across the face, causing her to stumble to the floor. The boy watched as he kicked the woman he had grown to call mother. He watched, and watched, and watched, as abusive boyfriend beat Woman to death, screaming at her about how she shouldn't touch him. The boy watched as Boyfriend stopped, a hairs breath away from stomping her head in, she was coughing up blood and sobbing. Then the boy stood, picking the knife from the sink, and walked slowly to the man. He held it back, and drove it into the mans shoulder, before bringing his foot down on the woman's head, ending her suffering.

"You two deserve to die together," the boy whispered, pulling the knife out of the man's shoulder and placing it in his hands, "so please, end your worthless, pathetic existence before I do."

After this the boy strode casually to his bedroom, grabbed a shirt, and left through the window. He didn't need them fuckers, he didn't need fostering. He just prayed to God the bastard killed himself. And don't ask why he needed one shirt and nothing else, I doubt it's important.

He wandered aimlessly, eventually stumbling into a place someone had told him was called Winchester. He sat on a bench, completely lost and confused; London was massive to his eleven year old self and he was surprised he'd made it this far. He stood slowly, wincing at the back pain 'caused by sleeping on the floor. Then he walked forward, surprised when he body crashed into a gate he hadn't noticed before, knocking him unconscious immediately.

Gosh, when would he get a break.

* * *

><p>The boy awoke in a foyer, in someone's arms; an older boy.<p>

"Hey Roger!" the older boy screamed, 'causing the younger boy's head to explode in pain, "Look at what I found!" The protagonist whimpered in pain, and the Older Boy noticed, apologizing and putting the protagonist down on his feet.

"Who're you?" The older boy asked, "I'm A, hah. We just have to wait here until Roger comes. Hey, are you okay?"

The boy, a.k.a; our protagonist, was heavy on his feet, barely able to process what the boy called A was saying, too many questions.

"I'm uh," he mumbled, "ugh I don't can't remember."

"Shit do you have concussion?"A asked, sounding genuinely concerned, although the boy couldn't see his face, as his vision was blurry as hell.

"I don't know?" The boy said, sitting in the spotless, checker tiled hallway.

"God you have, Roger's here, it'll be fine, you'll be fine."

* * *

><p>When the boy came too, he found himself in a rather plain room with one bed, a desk, a en suit bathroom, on the small table next to him there was a tray of food, picked at by bacteria and a cup of coffee with a crust on it; they'd obviously expected him to wake up earlier. Also on the table was a short note, written neatly.<p>

_We found out who you are and studied your test scores from your schools intensively only to find you scored over average for your age; way over average. Welcome to the house, you're letter is B, pick a name to go with if you wish. _

The boy, sorry, B, raised an eyebrow, reading the note again and again, trying to decide if they were being serious, _above average? _he hardly went to school, Women only forced him in for exams, he didn't even stick around to see what he scored. But it was the last bit that caught his eye.

_As you are the second highest scorer upon entry, you will be sharing with A. _

That pretty, blurry boy that brought him here?

Well, this could get interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>So so so, love, hate? :'3 I want to know if this is worth continuing hah.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Readers won't read unless there's some sort of sex in the first three chapters. Well I'm still laying the ground rules, so hang in one chapter more, then we shall get a very beautiful scene. :'3 **

The curtain pulled back to reveal a makeshift classroom with only four students; A, B, C and D. They were scattered around the large room, D at the very back looking out of the window and chewing his pen, C sat next to him, smiling carelessly and listening to the teacher droning on, B leaning back on his chair and watching the ceiling with intense, pointless, fascination and finally, A, sat on the right side of the six chair classroom, taking notes, whispering something to himself and biting his lip. But our story concerns B, the boy sat there counting the tiles; _one two three four five six, one two three four five six,_ he chanted too himself. It had been over a month since he was brought into Wammy's, and his roommate was still none too keen on him. In fact, he still wouldn't sit at the same table as B, although B was obviously an incredibly stable and humorous boy.

B sniggered at his own internal, egotistical monologue and pushed himself forward, slamming his chair down onto the floor just as the hands on the clock above the nameless teachers head hit six pm. Hey, when you're training to become the greatest detective in the worlds shadow, you don't get to finish school at 3 to 4 like all the other kids.

Nameless, genderless teacher sighed with some sort of mixture of joy and anguish before dismissing the class. Back when they were first gathering children for Wammy's, the children were put into classrooms based alphabetically, and because of the lack of students at that moment in time, they were ordered by skills, top scorers upon entry given the titles of A, B, C, and D, with all the other children given letters at random. Now when B arrived, it was just him and and two other students, A had taken the title of A for himself, as he was the first there, screw rankings, and C was still unnamed, as she had only been there a short time also. However, in the month since his arrival, the numbers of people in the orphanage had shot up a noticeable amount.

As B stood, he watched a collect his things from his own desk with a sort of sick fascination and interest; A, unlike B, was a perfectly normal 13-year-old boy. In fact, he was the polar opposite of B; A was a brown haired, green eyed, slightly underweight boy, although the being slightly underweight wasn't too abnormal due to the constant stress A forced upon himself. B would watch him at night, eyes glinting in the darkness and the older boy sat on his own bed, the walls closest to his bed covered in little green post it's with little black reminders. Note after note after reminder after page after reference covering the walls, it drove B to a frown watching A watch madly write and panic over the assignment he was rushing to finish that wouldn't be due in for another three weeks, at least.

B sidled back to his room, walking behind A and watching the weird numbers dancing around the boy's head. B had seen the numbers on people ever since he was born, their names too. However, he never quite understood what they meant, when he'd first come to the orphanage he made the mistake of addressing Cover by her real name, 'causing her to gasp and cry wolf. It happened with Woman, too; he would continuously ask her why the numbers on her head were getting shorter, only to find her claim he was seeing things and kiss her on the forehead. He eventually concluded that the numbers must be their birthday, so he ran into her room screaming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" on the day it hit zero, on the day she died.

But getting back on track, B followed A to their room, where A paused to allow B to pass through the door. Once in, B leapt at the bare sofa he spent the majority of his time on and grinned at A.

"Had a good day?" He asked, grin turning to a smirk as he ran different word combinations through his head, trying to find one that fit him. It never crossed his mind to draw on his main defining feature; his eyes.

A grunted softly, taking his Swiss army knife from his pocket and plunging it into the tangerine he'd just retrieved from the fridge, they were his current food fetish. Then he settled onto the sofa next to B and began to peel his orange fruit, immersing himself in a book on Quantum Entanglement. A moment of awkward silence passed between them as B thought rapidly. _I expend their expectations, so I go beyond what they expect of me. Beyond. Before. Beyond. Backup Back. Broken. Hmmm.. _

"A," he said suddenly, "I've been here over a month, and you still haven't said but a word to me."

A grunted softly, ignoring B until B grabbed the book from his hand and threw it to the floor.

"Talk to me, A, "he hissed in the older, yet younger, boys face, "taaaaaalk."

The sheer closeness of B to A frightened B slightly, he'd never really been close to a person, physically or emotionally. They watched each other for one frightful moment.

A glared him down, "no." He eventually whispered, looking uncomfortable, "I'm... busy."

The he slipped out from below B and exited the room.

"Jesus," B gasped, his heartbeat erratic as he collapsed onto the sofa, "that was fucking intense."

He felt sleep gripping at him, strangely tired by their brief encounter, but hey, at least A had said something to him.

B dragged himself to his bed, collapsing on it and pulling the covers over himself, watching the spot on the sofa where he and A has shared the moment, before falling unconscious.

**Reviews make me write more twisted words. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Well hello there. ;) For some reason, I love writing this story. :'D **

_White lips, __pale face, _

_breathing in the snowflakes,_

_burnt lungs__, Sour taste,_

_Light's gone, day's end, _

_struggling to pay rent, _

_long nights and strange men.. _

_And they say that she's stuck in the class A Team, stuck in a daydream_

_She's been this way since eighteen.._

* * *

><p>When B awoke, the entire room was shrouded in shadows sticking to everything, he looked over from his bed to A's, to find it vacated but the sheets crumpled. The entire room was sticky and humid, unusual for this part of England at this time of the year. Also, everything smelt faintly of blood, a smell B was too familiar with; way too familiar. He shuddered, sliding out of the bed and onto the floor where he sat for less then a second before standing slowly.<p>

_Where the hell was A?_

It wasn't unlike the older boy to sneak off to the library late at night, but he usually didn't sleep beforehand, and the room felt... off, somehow.

B noticed the small line of light shining from the bathroom and the quiet sound of running water. He approached cautiously, opening the door to reveal the usual steamy bathroom. He could see A's shadow behind the shower.

B exhaled in relief; A was okay, he wasn't dead.

However, that didn't explain the blood.

Shit.

B stalked over to the shower curtain, yanking it back to reveal a sodden, fully dressed A. At first, nothing seemed off, besides the fact that his roommate was sobbing in the shower wearing his clothes. However, as B pulled the groaning boy out and placed him on the floor, he noticed the scent of blood grow stronger. He turned his hands over to reveal his palms, palms covered in blood.

Not just any blood, A's blood.

B's eyes darted down to where A was clutching at his arms as if he could hide it, as if he could hide the blood dripping from between his fingers and as if he could hide the angry, painful slashes; not deep enough to kill him, but deep enough to scar and bleed and awful fuck lot. B swore, grabbing A's arms and holding them up, inspecting the wounds and wincing. The sound of A's erratic sobbing broke his heart as he ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around A's gushing arms, pressing down heavily.

"You absolute freaking idiot," B hissed, "what are you _doing?_"

A only responded by shaking his head and bringing his bloody arms and homemade bandages up to hide his face.

"Do we have any bandages?" B asked the traumatized A.

A nodded in the general direction of the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Once A was properly bandaged and semi calm, wrapped in the covers of his bed, B returned with a first aid box he'd swiped from the nurses station.<p>

He got to work, peeling back the bandages on A's left arm, threading the needle, and slowly cleaning the cuts. A sat silently sipping his green tea the entire time. B looked up to see A watching him intensely.

"Why did you do that?" A whispered.

"I could ask you the same thing." B smirked, usual calm demeanour back on him as he got to work stitching the edges of the wounds together so it wouldn't scar as roughly or something, he didn't quite know. He continued working, and a comfortable silence settled over the pair. He did one arm, and then the other. After he was done, he traced the scars and fresh cuts with the tip of one finger.

"It calms me down," A finally said, "I get so stressed over everything. It just calms me down."

"Hey," B said, "it's not like you have to explain yourself to me, or anything. I think it's beautiful."

He heard A's breath catch in his throat; B doubted anyone had ever told him the bloody mash of destroyed skin and flesh was beautiful before, but to B it was dark and emotional, it gave the A he hardly knew more depth. B continued tracing, this time watching A's wary expression as he did so, and just as A stared to relax, he dug his nail into one of the stitched cuts, causing A to gasp. B used the moment of weakness to grab the older boy and press his lips against his own. A resisted, but B refused to give up, pressing his weight upon A and holding him down by his wrists and hips. A slowly gave up, allowing B to part his lips and explore his mouth a bit more. B pulled back, leaving a rather dominated looking A lying on the bed, whimpering. B smiled, kissing the older boy again quickly before relaxing and allowing A some leverage in the situation.

"Those scars are beautiful," B said, "you're beautiful. And I've wanted to say that since I first came here."

He got off A, chuckling as the boy tried to free himself from the tangle of his bed sheets before giving up.

"Gugh, you bastard." He hissed at B.

"Love you too!" Be replied, slipping into the bed next to the cold boy before he could complain.

But no, B didn't know the name of the word.

"_Beyond sounds good,_" he mumbled to himself, grabbing A surprisingly softly and pressing himself against him; the room had gone surprisingly cold, _"Yeah. I like that. Beyond." _

"Hey, A?" he whispered, getting no reply, "what's you're name?"

There was a moment of silence, before A replied, "it's A."

B sighed; this was going to take some effort.

* * *

><p><strong>Actually, screw reviews. I'm just writing. <strong>

**But don't that you discourage you. ;) **

_Outside, it's too cold for angels to fly,_

_For angels to fly_

_For angles to die... _


	4. Chapter 4

**Is this A POV or B POV? Shit idk. :C **

**For Tina, you fucking rock, girl. I love you. Un Jessechan, 'cause she's such a legend. **

B awoke for the second time in two days to find the entire room clouded in shadow, the only difference was the warm body pressed against his side. The sleepy smile left his face as déjà vu covered him and he found A to be awake and away from him. It was the same, the same as always, they would talk, or breach, or anything, then A would pull away. Only that time it'd gone just a step further, and in his moment of weakness, his moment of bloody weakness, A had kissed B back.

"Beyond," A whispered, "why are you in my bed?"

"A," Beyond replied, "why does it matter?"

"It matters because you're in my bed," A growled, trying to sit up. Only to have Beyond's hand slam down onto his chest and hold him upon the bed. Beyond smiled, staring at the ceiling and feeling A squirm. Then his alarm went off, a sharp scream bouncing through the room and shook all the hindrances of being half asleep off him and making him sit up, removing his hand from A. A sighed in relief, composing himself just in time to hear the shower start up and Beyond step in; bastard, he always took all the hot water.

Beyond sat in the shower, arms clasped tightly around his legs. He watched the wall, unblinking, until it began to shift and wriggle. B was confused, because, you see, when B first came, A chatted to him merrily, which was why B was confused and unsure of why A had sharply and harshly pulled away from him and into a firm little shell. However, he'd never quite questioned A's sanity until he found him in the bathroom like that; Beyond didn't think of others often.

Still, B was grateful for the heat of subdued A below him. Incredibly grateful. That memory of that feeling of warmth and security tugged at something in Beyond's head, twitching and causing the boy discomfort and confusion as he sat there, trying to remember things best left alone.

****Change of POV, quite awkwardly.****

**Matt: **

There were others, our tale can't just concern the raven boy and the bloody A, no, there were others looking in, others that understood it better then they did. Take Matt for example, he was smart and observant for a kid, and he noticed. He noticed from the minute he stepped into Wammy's and saw the limp blonde boy following the devious Black Haired monster. Then by the next day, it was the opposite, Matt understood what was happening to the two, yet they didn't. He saw the bruises and the cuts littering A's body, shown by a slip of a sleeve or when he bent down or stretched and his shirt lifted up, revealing barely healed patterns. Matt cried abuse, they all didn't believe. I mean, the pressure of becoming L's successor is going to get some people down, is it not? Everyone has ways of release. However, to Matt, that didn't explain how he sliced up his back, his fucking back.

_A shuddered, biting on his partners shoulder. _

"_Stop," he whimpered, "please." _

At the same time, he could just have a history of abuse; Matt had heard... things... about what his dad did to him. Matt had heard horrible things.

"_I can't take this," A screamed, "I fucking hate you."_

"_No, you don't. You need me. You need me." _

_The wall slammed into place over A's eyes._

"_No I don't. I fucking hate you." _

Matt was suspicious, as were others. Even Roger was slightly concerned by A's studies all times of the night and the sobbing that came from his room. Plus B's strange way of switching opinions and the way one minute they were all over each other, then A hated Beyond, and Beyond had no memory of it.

Something was going on in that room, something bad.

"_I fucking hate you. So, so, much." _

**Hm, I seem to be basing A heavily on the middle brother in Brother x Brother. ;D If you've read it, you'll get where this story is going. xD **

_He makes me wanna take a blade to my skin, _

_And tear out the machine he installed from within, _

_He drives me insane, drives me insane;_

_Have at thee, false Christ, God damn you. _

_[I edited the lyrics. :C]_


	5. Chapter 5

**Our entire country is on strike or something, so; NO SCHOOL TOMORROW! Hell yes economical crisis. :'3 Tharrrrfore, you have a good day of continuous babble from me. Please don't shoot yourself before reviewing. And yes, I'm shamelessly telling you to review. Then die. **

**And that, my loyal fans, is the wonders of me. :'3 **

**[Zomg, ridiculous time skip]**

A year past, two, three. Three years of meaningless gift exchanges at Christmas; which itself was pointless, in the majority of the kid's opinions. A year, two, or three of watching life fly by. A year or two or three of A and B dominating the leader boards, closely followed by one of the younger students by the name of Near. In comparison to Near, A could've solved the Kira investigation in his sleep. However, that case was not to happen until long after A was dead and gone.

Beyond launched himself onto the familiar sofa, settling into the duvet that was there; he adored when they got holidays, sleeping on the sofa was like a ritualistic treat to him. When he'd awoken about thirty minutes ago, A had left the house already, going off to the same place he went every year. Every fucking year.

What's so special about graveyard anyway?

**Alternatives POV: **

When A exited Wammy's orphanage, it was surprisingly dark day for the usually bright mid winter Britain. He stepped out into the unusually deep snow of the year. Four to five inches. Then he began the trudge to his destination. A hated this trip, but it was one he made every year, without fail. To lighten his spirits, he nipped into a corner shop and bought a cup of hot chocolate, appreciating the warmth it brought him.

A continued on, clutching the flowers in his left hand, allowing the water on them to drip down his arm and send chills up it. Yet he was numb. As A drew closer to the ominous graveyard, he got the same feeling he got every single year, that feeling of misplaced dread. He was coming to lay flowers at his fathers grave.

"_C'mon, daddy knows best, son." _

A winced as he entered the chipping gates, his stomach full of moths, his toes going numb, the flowers wilting. It was tradition to give flowers to father in his house on Christmas, he never wanted anything, so A would give him as much as he could afford, a flower, carefully pressed and dried. A beautiful flower.

This year it was an entire bouquet.

A located his fathers grave and hesitantly sat in the snow, brushing snow and dirt of the grave, replacing the dead flowers with the fresh ones, and eventually sitting back to read the words on the gravestone, the way he always did.

_Beloved father. _

A winced again, slipping a hand under his sleeve and beginning to snap the bands on it against his skin.

_Beloved father. _

It always got to him, that line, those poisonous words.

_Beloved father of two. _

A gasped, where did the "of two come from?"

He bounced forward, knees cracking down upon the stone. A traced the words with his fingers; it'd always been there.

"_You want this." The man whispered in his ear, the nameless boy shuddered. _

"_No. I don't." The boy whispered. He was only 12, this had been happening for too long. Way too fucking long. _

"_You do, you need this." The man grabbed the nameless boy and shoved his lips against his own, toying with the buttons on the young boys jeans, "you need to this to be loved."_

"_No." The boy screamed, "Get off me. Get off me. Get off me."_

"_This is not happening," the boy chanted, as the man ripped his clothes._

"_I am dreaming." The boy hissed, as the man ran his disgusting tongue down his body_.

"_I need to wake up," he broke into a sob as the man, the man he called his father, entered him._

"_Wake up, wake up, please, please wakeup."_

"Please. Wake up." A whispered to himself, glaring at the tombstone, "please, wake up."

He could feel the tears dripping down his face, the cold penetrating his body. He stood, feeling the vile slime, blood, dirt and body fluids covering his body all over again. He could feel it seeping into him, infecting him. He could feel his insides changing, his innocence peeling away. He could feel his heart pound, he couldn't breath. A sat there, staring at the grave, screaming internally, panicking eternally.

"Are you okay?" someone asked him, causing him to jump backwards and crash into another gravestone, tumbling back to the floor and staying there.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He whispered, wondering why someone was out in this weather. Most likely not the same reason as him, but you never know.

"You don't look it, A." The voice chuckled, becoming familiar.

Shit. It was B, why was he here?

**Beyond's POV: **

Beyond chewed on his nail absentmindedly, wondering where A was, it'd been a good couple of hours, and it wasn't like A to go outside in the first place, let alone trek out somewhere and not come back. Beyond resolved to leave it another hour, then go looking for him, but where would he look?

However, B couldn't wait for an hour; A could be lying, freezing to death somewhere. That thought alone sent Beyond into a spiral of panic. He quickly shoved on decent clothes, and exited through the window; he didn't need to deal with Watari or Roger right now. Thank Christ he was on the bottom floor.

As B walked, he tried to determine where A could've gone too. A was rather secretive about where he went; he rarely ever mentioned his family or anything. Although, it was likely he didn't want too.

Last year, A had gone to visit his fathers grave, Beyond could remember that much; it was some peoples tradition to deliver flowers to their dead loved ones. Smirk. So B would try there first!

B rushed through the cold, all hints of the sun had gone, and night was setting fast. Not exactly smart to be out in his thin clothes, then. Eventually, with backtracking and asking for directions, B found himself at the local cemetery. He entered, regretful for not bringing a light of some sort.

B began to walk, the shadows he past grabbing at his clothes and his shaggy hair. He tried to see if he could hear anything, but the entire place was silent, besides a quiet sobbing coming from his left.

Now, Now, Beyond. Find A first, heroics later. However, his curiosity got the better of him, and he snaked through the stones to find a boy, around his age, sobbing gently at the foot of a grave. A Clearly A.

"Are you okay?" Beyond asked, not quite expecting A to jump and tumble backwards the way he did.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." He whispered, apparently not recognising Beyond.

"You don't look it, A." Beyond smirked, playing out the A and turning on the charm.

A looked startled that Beyond had found him here.

But Beyond could care less, he wanted to know what was going down with A and his father, and he wanted to know. Now.

**Christ. :C Review? :'D **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six ftw. xD I'm aware this story is losing plot, that's because I lost my notebook; I should probably go find it. But If I remember correctly, this chapter contains Gore, Yaoi, Sobbing A's, and whatnot. However, if I'm bullshitting, I apologize. According to someone, I gave them nightmares in the last chapter, and if I did, although it's unlikely because this story is quite tame, I'm not sorry. ;D **

**P.S; Just to let you know, my A is blonde. **

**P.P.S: If you wish to know who Nameless is, and why he has such a sucky name; read a story I haven't finished writing yet, but probably will soon. :'3 **

* * *

><p><em>This elevator only goes up to ten.<em>_  
><em>_He's not around.__  
><em>_He's always looking at men__  
><em>

B didn't hesitate to pick up his shocked and shivering A and carry him back to Wammy's. He didn't hesitate to pick him up in the same way he had been picked up those years ago when he first came to the orphanage. As I already explained, A was a good kid to B when he first came to the orphanage. As B walked, he tried to pick out the fragmented memories of his first month at the house.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Plot related flashback. :'3 <em>**

_Down by the pool.__  
><em>_He doesn't have many friends.__  
><em>_As they are__face down and bloated snap a shot with the lens._

B shot up, sweat running in rivers down his back, sticking his hair to his skull. The scream in his throat died upon realizing he was in his room, and that he was being shook.

"Are you okay?" A exclaimed, halting the shaking of B and removing his hands from him.

B gasped, willing himself not to burst into tears. The same damn dream, over, and over, and over. He kept seeing the woman's skull shatter as he brought his boot down upon it. At the time, he hadn't thought of the fact that he was fucking killing the woman that'd raised him since he was five years old! But every day it came back to haunt him. He wrapped him arms around his legs, pulling them in close against his chest. Then he allowed a sob to break out, shattering his walls and causing him to cry gently. B wasn't much of a crying guy.

_If you ever say never too late.__  
><em>_I'll forget all the diamonds you ate. __  
><em>"Are you okay?" A muttered again, bringing up a hand to place it on B's shoulder.

"Don't fucking touch me!" B screamed, pushing A off the bed and onto the floor, "Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me!"

A sat on the floor, looking incredibly hurt and confused.

"What?" he asked, trying to get back up, the determined bastard. B scrambled out of the bed just as he got back up and threw all his strength into his fist and into poor A's face, 'causing him to slam into the wall and crumple on the floor.

_Lost in coma and covered in cake.__  
><em>_Increase the medication.__  
><em>_Share the vows at the wake._

B crouched down next to him, threading his fingers into A's hair and pulling him forward. He placed his lips against A's ear and whispered, "You did this to us."

Slam, A's head smashed into the wall again. He was unconscious by this point.

"You. Fucking. Did. This. To Us!" B sobbed.

As you've possibly guessed, B was cationic, he didn't know it was A, he thought it was Monster Boyfriend, he'd burst into Mother and his own perfect white world and fucked it all up, if it wasn't for him, he wouldn't be here and she wouldn't be dead.

"I hate you" he exclaimed, staring at the unconscious body on the floor, "I hate you so fucking much."

_So say goodbye to the vows you take.._

B slipped his hands back into A's hair, the room was too dark to see the blood seeping through his light hair, turning it a true strawberry blonde. However, the second B touched it, he could feel it. He could feel the hot, slippery blood and it brought him out of his state. It brought him to realize he was playing with his roommate's blood.

_And say goodbye to the life you make..._

"Shit." He whispered, scrambling up and turning the light on, to reveal a truly beautiful sight. Yes, truly beautiful.

His roommate, slumped against a wall, blood soaked hair, unconscious. This brought B to wonder, what the fuck had he just _done_?

_(And say goodbye) to the heart you break..__  
><em>

The screaming in his ears died down to reveal someone was banging on the door.

"Are you two okay?" they asked, twisting the door handle to find it locked, "Fuck sake B let me in, it's Nightmare."

Oh Jesus Christ, anyone but Nameless Nightmare.

"Yeah" B tried to say, the words dying in his throat. He coughed, and tried again.

"Yeah, we're fine!" he said, aiming his words in the direction of the door, although he was watching his roommate.

"Bullshit. I can smell blood."

It was at that moment that Nameless broke through the door and promptly screamed.

"Eh... Hi..." B smiled, fully aware of how he with his roommate, for all extents and purposes looking dead on the floor, with B sat next to him, his hands covered in blood, "He slipped and smashed his head against a wall."

Nameless raised an eyebrow, "You should... take him... to... the... nurse." He said, looking shocked, "should I tell Roger?"

"No!" Beyond exclaimed, grabbing A and attempting to lift him, "what you should do is help me carry him. And under no circumstances are you to tell anyone about this."

Nameless nodded and grabbed A.

"But I swear, B; you have to explain this. There's no way I believe your story about him falling."

B nodded in return, "thanks." He whispered, staring down at his bloody roommate.

_Smart move_, a venomous voice in his head snapped, _Keep your emotions in your pants, no one needs to hurt but yourself. _

No one needed to hurt but himself.

* * *

><p><em>And say goodbye to the last parade<em>_  
><em>_And walk away from the choice you made_

_And say goodnight to the heart you break__  
><em>_And all the cyanide you drank._

_Will you carry me to the end..? _

* * *

><p><strong>O.e Hit me with your criticism, it'll do my ego some good. :L <strong>

**The song I used randomly and unnecessarily in there is To the end by MCR. And that's because it was the song I was listening to when I started this chapter. No emotional reason at all, I just liked the lyrics. **

**Review, dear reader, review. **

P.S; anyone still reading this is amazing and insane. ;D


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry I've taken so long, everybody, I'm sick as hell. :C I didn't even tell you who Nameless Nightmare is, did I? xD **

* * *

><p><em>Honestly, it's harder breathing next to you; I shake, <em>

_I brought a gun and as the preacher tried to stop me, _

_Hold my heart,_

_It's beating for you anyway.. _

* * *

><p>A's fractured bones healed quickly, B could remember that. His hand stuck on the gate as he wrenched it open, having to place A on the cold floor and use both hands, it was that heavy.<p>

Once inside the hallways, B wasn't surprised to find everything silent, it was late, everyone was either asleep or in their room; and if any kids that were anywhere else, they were being quiet about it.

B dragged his numb body and even more so roommate to their room, probably waking a person or two when he hit his hip against the sharp corner of a table and screamed surprised obscenities. The shadows were menacing, as shadows always were in the house.

By the time they reached their shared room, A had settled into a weird silence; B asked him if he was okay, trying to make conversation, only to receive nothing in return. B settled him down on the floor, non-to gently, and left the room.

A remained, slumped on the floor. He closed his heavy eyes, only to have the bloody images flash behind his eyelids again, making him shudder.

"Wake up" he whispered to himself. It was familiar phrase, one that didn't faze everyone as much as it did him. Every time he heard anyone say wake up, he was sent into a spiral of suppressed misery. Wake up was his trigger word.

His father always favoured him for his hair, the shining blonde hair that gave him his feminine look, or rather highlighted it. That was why he dyed it brown, it was brown by the time he arrived at Wammy's, and when he spent those months obsessing over studies, he allowed it to grow out. His father favoured him because he got all of his mother's looks.

A's mother and father met in school, and their parents both forced them into marriage. His mother was an average housewife, his father a strong man with a secret. Only A's mother had known the secret, she readily accepted it, although it broke her heart. She would swoop to kiss him, only to have him pull away. A could remember hearing her crying over lost love at night.

She didn't know what he did to their sons.

Yes, the plural, A was a twin.

* * *

><p><strong>**Flashback, motherfucker.**<strong>

The young blonde was seeing double, and he had been since the day he was born. He had a twin. They would share secrets at night, hell; they slept in the same bed. They did everything together. They were like chalk and cheese; although they looked the same, they couldn't be any different. A was quiet, introverted, whilst his counter part was loud and energetic. He never failed to make A smile, even as he was filling out the homework for both of them, as his brother never paid enough attention to get anywhere in life without the help of A. A needed his brother for support, for someone to run too, his brother needed A for getting by.

They needed each other.

* * *

><p>A was drawn out of his memories when he heard the door slam behind B, recently returned from his adventure to the kitchen, bringing food and hot chocolate.<p>

He settled down opposite A, offering him a mug, of which A accepted, to B's surprise.

The silence was deafening, they say when you stay silent, you hear that strange ringing, and you can train yourself to hear the messages inside it. They say that buzzing silence tells you the future, but with learning to hear the voices, you learn to see what brings them, and they haunt your dreams and waking hours until you die.

They say that in every awkward silence a gay baby is born.

Many things happen in the cracks of silence, those short moments of solace and peace in this fast moving world.

B watched A drink from the cup, shuddering as the hot liquid interacted with his cold body.

"A." B whispered inching himself forward until his toes touched A's tightly coiled legs, "Start explaining."

A put the cup down on the wooden floorboards, outside it was growing light, dawn was fast approaching.

"He raped me." A whispered, "He told me to stop pretending, I didn't understand what he was saying, and then he raped me."

B raised an eyebrow, none of A's previous sentence made any sense. People don't just runabout raping people, well, they do, but...

"He never loved my mother; he was forced to marry her. She loved him, sure, but he had a taste for something society forbids. Mother had no idea what was happening whilst she was out of the house, even when she was in the house; he made us promise not to tell her."

B leant forward, genuinely interested now.

"Us?"

"Yeah, I had a brother. I never saw what he did to my brother, but he told me, and it was worse than what he did to me."

"Cool." B whispered without thinking, immediately taking it back and trying to fill the gap with conversation, "Um...I killed my foster mother." He said.

A's eyes widened, "what?" he asked, "that's a bit... sick, why didn't they catch you?"

"Because they thought her boyfriend did it, like a homicide-suicide thing, but it was me; I remember the way it felt to crush her skull, it haunted me for months after I came here."

Now it was as if they were having a competition over whom was the most fucked up.

"I killed my cat" A smirked.

"So? That's nothing."

"Well, shit; I've never told anyone this, and you have to promise not too... Pinky Promise?"

"Pinky Promise" B grinned, wrapping his pinky around A's own.

Then A leant in close to his ear, and whispered four words.

"I cheated at scrabble."

Both boys burst out laughing.

Then they returned to drinking their hot chocolate, watching each other with each sip.

"A?" B said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What?" A replied.

"I love you." B smiled.

"Cute." A smirked.

B's smile dropped.

A was still the emotional cut off he always was, even after that sharing session.

Hell, in the morning he'd probably act like it never happened.

* * *

><p><em>Don't ruin a perfect thing<em>_  
><em>_the boy on the blue moon hears a nightmare in his head__  
><em>_I'll bet you money as you're running to the bathroom__  
><em>_you barely started drinking but your beauty never stopped you__  
><em>_you died in California by the sulphur and the sea__  
><em>_I guess I never should have loved you__  
><em>_but I do forever because you "loved" me.._

* * *

><p><strong>Omigosh, I finally updated. :'3 feel free to review, friends. <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Still reading this? OhmygoshIloveyou. ;D Just go ahead and review, this is shameless self promotion and I love feeling special. Otherwise, just enjoy this massive plot hole infested story. I'm starting to worry about my portrayal of Beyond, is it okay? Anyway, Writer'sgunnawrite.**

* * *

><p><em>I don't care if you're sick,<em>

_I don't care if you're contagious, _

_I would kiss you even if you were dead._

* * *

><p>B's predictions came true, that night the two boys, weary and warm, clambered into their separate beds, although B wasn't surprised to find that when A thought he was asleep, he slipped into B's bed, as he did often, comfort thing probably. When B awoke, his sheets crumpled after well, sleep, and the night wrestling for covers with A, there was no A to be found.<p>

He rubbed his eyes, to find a grinning A had materialized at his feet.

"Morning" he said, unusually energetic.

"Eh, morning?" B mumbled, his vision still blurry, he rubbed his eyes again, and A's face came into focus. For the first time in a long time, B noticed the numbers above his head.

They were in the singles.

"Hey A?" B asked, "When's your birthday?"

"Haha it's not for a few months. I'll be eighteen; legal enough."

"Mmm" B smiled lazily, "that doesn't make sense."

A look of confusion crossed his roommates face, "what?"

"Ah doesn't matter."

This A was completely different to the one the night before, as per usual for A; he was always one for frequent personality change. B watched as the boy reached down to scratch his sleeved arm before leaping off B's bed.

"Let's do something cliché today." A grinned, "I want to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" B asked to A's back as he shot out of the room.

B sighed; that boy was crazy.

**Onlooker.**

Onlooker one watched A bound into the main lounge, he was seated on the sofa with onlooker two, onlooker two was playing vidya games obsessively, per usual; and although onlooker one was new enough to Wammy's; he knew that A, that strange boy that followed the crazy emo kid around like a puppy, was unusually happy for his usual character.

"Hey." A said, slightly out of breath as he collapsed on the sofa next to onlooker one and two, "It's my birthday!"

They raised their eyebrows, knowing all too well, due to their folder searching, that it wasn't A's birthday. Then again, they also knew that A was pretty off it; the pressure cracked him way back. Onlooker 2 seemed to remember it, but onlooker one didn't.

Look, I'm getting sick of this, it was Matt and Mello, so we're referring to them as this, because I really can't be bothered.

Matt could remember before A was cracked, as he put it; he'd given Mello a brief over run of it when he first came basically consisting of "Stay away from A and B, they'll cut you and drink your blood."

But hey, A seemed nice enough.

By the time the two boys had broken their internal monologue, A had already bounced off to inform someone else that it was his birthday, to which they all looked vaguely confused and scared. Everyone was surprised to see A out of his lair, and they were even more so when B came into the room about half and hour later, grabbed A by the arm, coughed, and dragged him out. The silence of B's presence only lasted for about five Mississippi's before everyone burst back into conversation.

Whilst the other orphans forgot about A and B, they made their way out of Wammy's, where to go I am unsure. What to do, I have even less idea about.

And B seemed to be thinking the same way as A slipped his fingers in amongst B's awkwardly and led him out of the gates.

"Hey, A?" B asked almost nervously, "where are we going?"

"Heaven." A smiled.

It turns out Heaven was the graveyard, A's favourite place, the sick fuck.

B and A wandered about the vast plane of dead, looping around until A found the place he wanted to show B, his mothers stone.

"She's dead?" B asked; he'd though A and his brother had just been taken into care.

"Yeah." A said, you could hear the emotion in his voice as he tried to level his words, "On the night we ran away, brother came into my room telling me that we had to leave, he was acting weird and by the time Dad hunted me down, I was here and Mom was dead, only God knows what happened to her."

"What was your brother's name?" B asked, suspicious as usual.

"I don't know. I can't remember," A said before chuckling, "how bad is that? Forgetting your brother's name."

They stood their facing the stone in silence, their handgrip no longer awkward, more second nature.

"What's your name?" B asked as him and A continued walking.

A smirked, "it's A." He answered, per usual, "how about you?"

"B." B whispered.

"Do you have a tragic back story?" A pried as they left Heaven.

"I don't have parents. I killed someone. That's about it."

"Wow so untragic." A said sarcastically, earning a thump from B. February monsters stole the sun and the night came faster then they expected. They barely made it to the gates of Wammy's as it closed. When they entered the house, removing their shoes, they noticed how homely it was for once. The entry was actually lit and you could hear laughter, a sharp contrast to the usual grey damp home B had become accustomed too; if A wasn't so eager to get back to their room, he might've gone to see what all the commotion was. Oh A, such a social butterfly.

However, on their way to the room, A disappeared outside Roger's office with little more than a giggle and tugging on B's shirt. B, assuming it was nothing, left him too it and continued to their shared room.

Upon entering the room, B dragged himself to the sofa and collapsed upon it, his feet hurt an awful lot. There he sat, staring at the ceiling, his feet going numb and his body crawling with insects, he was fully aware it was pins and needles, he was fully aware it was just formication, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were crawling into the wound he gained from falling out of a tree in his thigh, eating away at the flesh, getting into his skin and infecting him from the inside ou-

SLAM. He brought the palm of his hand down upon the wound, feeling the bittersweet sensation of broken bruised skin reacting to his harsh methods of getting rid of the invisible parasites.

That was how A found him when he burst into the room, scratching his body red raw.

"Hey?" A asked slowly.

"Hey" Be replied, leaping up and trying to ignore the itching- whywasthishappening.

A grinned, "I brought vodka."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my god that cut off point was unnatural. ;-; I also have no idea what I'm going to do at the end of this story. Anyone looking forward to the next chapter? it's the last one. :'3 <strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors warning: Lemons god damn lemons! I read about a billion different stories rated M for you guys so that I could bringyou this, and Lemons make me so uncomfortable. Do you *know* how difficult it is trying to not overuse the world Member ujpwwiogj I hate Lemons god damn it but THIS STORY NEEDED IT. (this chapter is unnecessary, skip at will)**

* * *

><p><em>Darling, what is going on? <em>

_Honestly that never happened._

_Lying is your favourite passion. _

_Leave me, go where you belong._

_Higher heels and lipstick napkins__**.**_

_**Dying is your latest fashion. **_

* * *

><p>It's funny what alcohol can do to you, especially when it's strong.<p>

A's body was pressed against the hardwood floor by a feverish B, it'd started off slow, not a dramatic tension filled make out session or anything. B hadn't snapped again and raped A.

They sat there, sipping from the bottle timidly, staring at the side of the ruined sofa.

"This is a nice party," A said, bumping his shoulder into B, "I wouldn't want to spend it with anyone but you."

B hissed softly, A was too close for his liking and the vodka burnt his insides. All his past experiences with alcohol were hardly pretty.

One drink became two, four, and they were quickly pretty out of it, although B was far more sober. Like everyone seems to do when they're bored or drunk or both, they played truth or dare. "I dare you to go hit Roger." A giggled.

"Hell no I'm not doing that, that's a pathetic dare anyway." B exclaimed, grinning at a half naked A; oh truth or Dare.

"FORFEIT." A screamed, jumping up and laughing.

B sighed. "K, what is it?"

A crouched on the floor, inches from B, a sadistic smirk on his face.

"Forfeit: Kiss me," he whispered, "or tell me your name."

You can guess what he did.

His nails dug into A's arms as their simple dare kiss deepened, A positioning himself more comfortably, one hand pressed against the floor on B's left side, and the other low down on the wall next to B. Who would've guessed A topped.

B grunted as A pressed him further into the wall, suddenly resisting and pushing A off him. A collapsed onto the floor, still wearing that dominating smirk.

"What was that for?" he asked cluelessly.

"Y-you're a guy." B gasped.

"Choose now to be picky. You didn't say that when you found me in the bathroom."

B looked confused. He clearly didn't remember any such event.

A suddenly shot up and grabbed B, crushing his lips against B's and pulling him to the floor. B, unable to resist, gave up and allowed his dick to take over in the situation.

Which is how we ended up with B on top of A, elbows either side of his head, and all regrets about sexuality far behind him. A allowed him to top, instead lying there and enjoying the love drunken experience, which is funny because they were actually wasted. B hesitated slightly when A's wandering hands found their way down to his jeans, but pressed himself further into A, grinding softly into him. They'd both sobered considerably by that point, yet they continued, only occasionally separating.

"This is awkward." B whispered in A's ear as B pushed his partners top up, trailing his hands down his back.

"Shut up, B," A chuckled, "it's about to get more awkward."

B's next words were cut off by his gasp as A slipped a hand into the black haired boys tight pants, heat radiating from him. B shut his eyes, going bright red, just like the author of this story right now.

Then it started, awkward romance stretching further then either of the boys had ever gone before. Exploring every inch of the others body, carnivorous love, oh the horror of their love.

A slid his hand down his lovers chest, resting a finger on the tip of B's member teasingly. A now kneeled above B, and they had somehow found themselves behind the sofa, practically naked, although A still wore his boxers, the swine.

B whimpered as A teased him further, causing A to giggle and kiss B gently, lips trailing down his neck and pausing at his collar bone, before continuing down.

B stared at the ceiling, love drunk and woozy. There was absolutely no way this was happening, absolutely no wa-

B's internal monologue was cut short by the gasp torn from his throat as A ran his tongue up the length of B's member.

"P-please stop." B whispered, his breath hitching as A continued, taking it in his mouth and beginning to move his lips further down the shaft, hesitantly licking as he went.

"Haha In your dreams," A smiled, removing his mouth from B's dick.

"Well in that case," B snarled, grabbing A's boxers and grinning, "continue."

* * *

><p><em>Kill me romantically<em>_  
><em>_Fill my soul with vomit__  
><em>_Then ask me for a piece of gum.__  
><em>_Bitter and dumb__  
><em>_You're my sugarplum.__  
><em>_You're awful, I love you!__  
><em>


	10. Chapter 10

**(The number of unread messages in my emails is 113... I'm a bit creeped.)**

**I'M SORRY! THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER I MISLABELLED HAHA. **

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed, favourite, alerted, ect and the co-author of this single chapter. The finale would be nothing without you, girl. Hell, the story would exist. So someone thank Tina Haha. **

* * *

><p><em>I'm a killer<em>_  
><em>_Cold and wrathful__  
><em>_Silent sleeper_

B lay in his bed, the night before blurry, very few things clear, details truly gone. However, he was sure of one thing. They did it. Finally. B smiled, he took A's virginity, as he swore he would do; he always said being roommates with the boy would be interesting, but he didn't expect it to go that far.

He slid from the bed, bones creaking and joints cracking as he stretched; he fell asleep awkwardly, that was for sure. B was ravenous, the state of the floor slightly humorous to him. He was so caught up in the achievement of the night before – yes, A's cat ears were his trophy – that he didn't ponder where his new found lover had run off too whilst he was asleep. B was too hungry to care damn it.

He pulled on clothes, checking his watch. It was five, school didn't start for three hours, no one would be awake.

B left the room, padding off to the kitchen.

* * *

><p><em>I've been inside your bedroom<em>_  
><em>_I've murdered half the town__  
><em>_Left you love notes on their headstones__  
><em>_I'll fill the graveyards__  
><em>_Until I have you_

A stared at the accursed twin, unable to believe his eyes. The bathroom was heavy with tension. A heard B leave the room earlier and he prayed he came back soon.

"What're you doing here?" he said, to his double. Only his double was still blonde and he still looked 13.

"Happy to see me, little brother?" he smirked, stepping closer to A.

"No, nonon. Get the fuck out of my head."

His brother grabbed A, pulling him close and hugging him.

"Now now, Alex. Which one of us is the real one?"

A gasped, his thoughts infected with the idea that he was the illusion.

"Get out of my head," A snarled, pushing his brother back, "I got rid of you after you killed her, so go die."

"Original."

"Bite me."

* * *

><p><em>Moonlight walking<em>_  
><em>_I smell your softness__  
><em>_Carnivorous and lusting__  
><em>_To track you down among the pines_

"What're you doing?" a small voice came from behind B, whom was rooting through the kitchen cupboards like a man possessed.

Shit, B thought, Matt.

He spun round, "Getting food, young Matthew."

"Shut up." Matt smiled; standing on the counter next to B and helping him rummage through the cupboard to find something edible.

B eventually gave up, settling for some brandless Jam that was festering near the back.

The two boys sat on the floor, sharing the jam with a spoon and exchanging polite conversation.

"A seems better." Matt said suddenly, smiling, "he was singing on the way to class the other day it was hilarious."

B wouldn't know that, he didn't go to class anymore, not often anyway.

"Yeah." B grinned, his secret bursting out, "I had sex with him."

"What?" Matt exclaimed, "B-but sex is weird. And he's a guy. Why would you do that?"

B smirked, "I'll explain when you're older."

"If you said that you did it with him to Mello he'd kill you," Matt chuckled, gesturing to nothing, "he'd be all like 'Loving boys is a sin and sex before marriage is too and I don't know you're going to hell!'"

B laughed.

* * *

><p><em>I want you stuffed into my mouth<em>_  
><em>_Hold you down and tear you open__  
><em>_Live inside you__  
><em>_Oh, love I'd never hurt you_

A rummaged in the box he'd pulled out from under his bed, eventually pulling out the satisfying looking knife that B didn't take away.

"Can't bother me if I'm dead," A smirked, whipping the blade round and grinning at his twin.

"You wouldn't." His twin said as A brushed past him into the bathroom and turned the light on; he was planning on going out anyway, his twin just speeded up the process.

"Oh I would." A said pulling the blade gently across his skin, watching blood well up. The again, deeper, tensing his arm and dragging the blade along, pushing down and ignoring the pain. When he opened his eyes, a satisfying wound was there, a surprisingly wide one. He then continued in that fashion.

"You're an idiot." His brother whispered in his ear.

"Get out of my head." A hissed, continuing.

"Fine." His twin sniffed, settling back, "do it."

"Get out of my head."A mumbled, barely noticing as B entered the room.

"A, are you okay?"

A watched as his twin's face split with a grin, he leapt up, and went to inspect the figure that'd just entered the room.

"Who's this, A?" he cackled, "your boyfriend?"

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD." A screamed, grabbing clumps of his hair in his hands and tugging harshly on it.

"A, are you okay?" B exclaimed, he obviously couldn't see twin.

* * *

><p><em>But I'll grind against your bones<em>_  
><em>_Until our marrows mix__  
><em>_I will eat you slowly_

As A couldn't see B. He turned his head to his right, a look of confusion and tiredness on his face. He lifted his arm, reaching out to touch something that clearly wasn't there.

Before B could react, A plunged the knife into the underside of his arm, cherry lipstick blood immerging in the crevices the knife left behind.

"Get out of my head." he whispered, as B grabbed him and tried to remove the knife, but the damage was already done.  
>"The fuck?" B asked, panicking like you would in the situation.<p>

"B?" A asked, finally acknowledging his presence...

"Shit A what, I need to get Roge-"

"I love you."

A's body B saw a single tear slid down his cheek. B didn't know if he was crying from the pain, relief, for B or for his sanity. Hell he didn't think even A knew.

"I love you too, but what have you done... shit shit shi-..Wait... A?"

* * *

><p><em>Oh oh oh oh<em>_  
><em>_The horror of our love__  
><em>_Never so much blood pulled through my veins__  
><em>_Oh oh oh oh__  
><em>_The horror of our love__  
><em>_Never so much blood__  
><em>

It's funny how quickly life is snuffed out, the old candle metaphor, broken glass, life is so fragile. However, the worst part is not the death, but it's the pure carnage left behind. Some people deal with death well. Some don't.

Beyond twisted the rope around in his hands, biting his lip absentmindedly and staring at the tiles of the writers bathroom ceiling;

One: it had been three years since A took his own life, without B, and Beyond still stung from grief and betrayal.

Two: the rope was turning his hands red with the harsh wringing. He continued.

Three: He left Wammy's years ago, staying their in time for the funeral; since then he'd seethed and planned.

Four: he was nineteen that day, in a week A would've turned 21.

Five: Believes Bridesmaid was in his bedroom, getting changed for sleep.

Six: Beyond was shaking with anticipation for what he was to do.

Seven: this would surely catch L's attention.

Eight: Beyond stood from his position on the edge of the bath.

Nine: He swiftly and quietly opened the bathroom door, entering the hallway.

Ten: he padded down the hallway, sneaking down the stairs.

Eleven: he made his way directly to Believe Bridesmaid's bedroom.

Twelve: he stood in the hallway for a second, watching the man pull a white shirt on, then he entered, silently sliding up to the man: the rope coiled around Believe Bridesmaid's neck and Beyond tightened his grip continuously, smiling as he did it.

Beyond stepped back as the man went limp, slowly going about the process of carrying the corpse to the bed, removing its shirt and slowly cutting into the corpses exposed flesh.

Thirteen: "I'll see you soon, A," he whispered to himself, manic tears dripping down his face and onto his victims chest, mixing with the blood already there, "real soon..."

Thirteen. One and Three. One and three crammed together make B. B, the boy with bloody eyes and a hole in his heart. Beyond Birthday, the reason for our tale, the reason for the death, the tears and the jam.

Beyond Birthday, living relatives: none. Connections: none. Stability: none.  
>Entry score: classified. Age: classified. Name: CLASSIFIED. Footnotes:<br>he has taken a liking to Alternative; watch with caution...

_And you bury me__  
><em>_In the ocean floor beneath you__  
><em>_Where they'll never hear us scream__  
><em>_Oh oh oh oh__  
><em>_The horror of our love__  
><em>_Never so much blood pulled through my veins__  
><em>_Oh oh oh oh__  
><em>_The horror of our love__  
><em>_Never so much blood__  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Gashh it's the end. Hope you enjoyed this story, dusting off my writing a bit; I hope to do more Multi chaps in the future. Thank you everyone. <strong>

**War, **

**Adelay. **

**P.S; the lyrics for this chapter were The Horror Of Our Love by Ludo. **

**P.P.S; Anyone want to co author something? It sounds fun Haha.**_  
><em>

_You're a ghost, love__  
><em>_Nightgown flowing__  
><em>_Your body blue and walking__  
><em>_Along the continental shelf__  
><em>_You are a dream among the sharks__  
><em>_Beautiful and terrifying__  
><em>_Living restless__  
><em>_We dance in dark suspension__  
><em>


End file.
